Addiction – like cancer – is a disease.
Individuals – like my young adult son with a history of childhood trauma and Fetal Alcohol Syndrome – are at greater risk.
Highly impulsive. Overly anxious.
Throughout his childhood I tried to do all the right things.
We openly talked about substance abuse. We discussed family genetics and risk. We read hard-knock stories in the newspaper. We even listened to a panel of teens in recovery and saw the negative effects firsthand.
Don’t start. Not worth the risk. Addiction can happen quickly.
I constantly knew my son’s whereabouts. He never carried excessive amounts of money. Most of his social time was spent at home with his brothers.
Drug use was a none issue.
The first “high” didn’t happen until age 23. But boy did it stimulate his damaged brain, unlike prescription psychotropic drugs that effectively had leveled his mood for years.
For a short period, my son felt whole – not different than his peers. One night he described the euphoric experience to me in great detail – while still feeling the effects.
The little boy who routinely screamed at the sight of a needle let a stranger inject meth into his veins.
I remained calm but immediately saw the danger ahead. He liked the “change” a little too much.
In his altered mental state and among so-called friends, he would use again – and again.
And he did – desiring the same feeling of euphoria.
Although working full-time, he couldn’t afford a modest apartment and develop a sense of independence. Living at my house and driving my vehicle meant following reasonable rules. No fighting. No stealing.
He left on his own.
That’s when his couch surfing days began.
Eventually, a homeless shelter provided a roof. But it also provided endless exposure to poor role models and an obvious drug culture. My son told graphic stories that I would have never imagined on my own.
Men injecting in bathroom stalls. Men passed out in alleys. Men trading anything of value for another fix – including their bodies.
Because of the opioid crisis, addiction is once again newsworthy. Meanwhile, meth is cheap and highly addictive. It remains a huge issue with a ready supply crossing the Mexican border probably every day.
Yet trauma-informed in-patient treatment is scarce – even with my son now begging for help, even with a health insurance card in his hand. One with decent coverage.
Three attempts without an admission.
Nudging him to admit his problem took nine months of balancing tight boundaries and unconditional love.
Pushing him to seek treatment took a consistent message from family members.
But refusing to acknowledge his problem – much less help him – sends the wrong message. Prison should never be the initial response to addiction, especially when no harm has come to the community – only to my son and his family.
Shaming won’t cure him either. In fact, shaming does just the opposite for young adults like my son with a lifetime of mental health challenges. They will continue to seek an escape and use.
He desperately needs constant supervision in a therapeutic environment. He can then detox for 10-14 days and begin the initial path to recovery. This stage is crucial for meth addiction – before the dopamine receptors are permanently damaged.
A huge out-of-pocket expense is simply not possible.
Unfortunately, my home simply didn’t provide the intense structure and neutral territory that’s necessary to change his way of thinking – which is easier said than done.
We tried more than once.
That led to six months of wandering. My son eventually lost everything. His job. His phone. His wallet.
Perhaps hitting bottom. At last.
Several days ago he knocked on my door. He asked to use a phone. Even as thoughts of chaos swirled in my head, I let him enter. I couldn’t turn him away in his state of physically and emotional need. Skinny. Hungry.
Nothing but the clothes on his back.
With no real options, we are trying detox at home again – with every family member on board. One day at a time.
Looking past his negative responses. Keeping him fed. Letting him sleep. The first week will be the roughest.
Prayers for endless patience. The right words without shame. Because we need them.
Failure is not an option this time.
After a successful three to four week detox period, he can pursue outpatient treatment with family support. With positive influence from anyone willing to lend a hand.
The goal is simple. Stability. The return of self-worth. The ability to stay away from those who use. A new job. A willingness to communicate. And the desire to follow my rules until he can afford a place of his own.
Yesterday he finally said, “I want my life to go back to the way it used to be.”
That statement is huge. It gives me hope.
My family and I will never abandon him.
We will love but not enable him.
We will search for appropriate services, until they are found.
We will then walk the journey with him – because recovery is a lifelong commitment. DCP
Craig Peterson publishes EACH Child every Tuesday. To subscribe, open this link and “Like” the page. EACH Child is Special: Working Smarter Not Harder to Raise Every ONE
To follow Craig’s journey in raising his six children with special needs, click here: Adopting Faith: A Father’s Unconditional Love
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